


Radical Dreamers

by hirondelle



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Canon Universe, Child Soldiers, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Healing, I don't describe the drug using, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Kazemaru's POV, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Midorikawa appears sometimes and he has an eating disorder, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Use, Post-Season/Series 02, Rehabilitation, Therapy, learning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirondelle/pseuds/hirondelle
Summary: After Aliea Gakuen's dismantling, the Government offers to all the victims of the Aliea's meteorite the chance to heal in an equipped facility, where their post-traumatic addiction can be solved. Kazemaru Ichirouta, former captain of Dark Emperors' team, finds out that he has a lot of things he has to work on, more than he initially thought. He is the slowest one processing this new reality, misunderstood even by his best friends, unable to get over his insecurities and his beliefs, and ultimately, left behind.Meeting Fudou changes a lot of things.Maybe he can learn some things or two.
Relationships: Fudou Akio/Kazemaru Ichirouta
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	1. I thought it was you

**Author's Note:**

> I saved this thing as "fukaze de la muerte" and I'm struggling so much with it that I am regretting everything. Please, please, please, be patient. Especially with grammar mistakes. It's really getting too long for my mental health.

“Let’s talk about this friend of yours, shall we?”

Kazemaru sniffs and the scent of roses floods his nose. The studio is clean, the light dim and warm, and the armchair where he is sitting is soft as hell, so much he could sink in it. Everything is made so that he can feel as much comfortable as possible, but he just feels very bamboozled at the time.

“You said he’s your best friend,” the calm voice persists, “Do you mind telling me about him?”

“Uhm” Kazemaru says, eyes lowered on the intricated arabesque of the immense carpet that cover the entire floor. In his mind, the image of Endou Mamoru shines vividly. Even if he has seen him once in months, it’s impossible to really forget him. “Endou is… my best friend,” he repeats, quietly listening to the soft buzz of the diffuser. “It’s because of him that I entered the soccer club”.

His therapist nods. With his eyes on the carpet, he can barely see her shoes, but he knows she is fondly looking at him. Sometimes, she writes something on her notebook, which is a thing he has seen her doing also during their first meeting.

“He asked me to, because he couldn’t find enough people for the club to go on and play matches. And he said I was faster than anyone else,” He can’t help but shiver at those words, because he can still remember how Endou flattered him, and how he felt so proud of himself. “At first it had to be a temporary situation. Then I stuck to the whole soccer thing, and then… to him”.

And at first, he thought that it was a good idea, really. Not that there weren’t any benefits from him being at Endou’s side. Even Miyasaka could tell. Kazemaru just wishes he had known when things began to be too much to handle, and everything about Endou became unbearable, his light almost blinding him. But he also knows that putting the blame on Endou’s shoulders only is a dishonest thing, and honestly, he is feeling like a jerk.

“It was him who brought me back,” he whispers, like if he wants to defend Endou from his own thoughts. “And made me see the future, even after the Aliea. That’s the very reason I’m here”.

Endou doesn’t deserve his hatred, but there is this part of him that can’t really stop thinking about the fact that… if he hadn’t ever met him in the first place, life would be way easier.

“So, you must take him in great care,” the therapist enquires softly, indulging him to go on.

“Yes,” Kazemaru says, unsure. “Yes, I owe him a lot”.

He owes him a lot and he shouldn’t feel this way towards him, not after everything he has done.

“You _owe_ him,” she repeats, “why would you say that?”

Kazemaru can’t really answer to that. Yeah, it seems like everyone who meets Endou has this sort of debit towards him: for saving them, for being pushed towards a better path, and freed by their own misery. It’s only logical he feels that way. Except, _he doesn’t want to_.

Because it’s difficult to keep up to his standards. It’s difficult to reach a kind of speed that could easily put him on his trail of positivity and sense of security. It’s not easy for him to appreciate the feel of fulfillment and protection that his friendship with Endou can give him at times, because on the other hand, there’s also something else. Something obscure and rotten that he can’t really comprehend, but it’s eating him alive.

Endou doesn’t deserve his hatred, but that part of him, that very twisted part of him, is still present after he has been liberated from the Aliea and Kazemaru feels dirty and ungrateful.

It almost hits him the fact that he hasn’t spoke a word since his therapist has asked him that question and he rises his head, meeting her calm gaze.

“I…” he tries to articulate. “I… it’s just… it doesn’t feel right to feel like this… not after all he has done for me”.

She smiles, almost motherly. “There’s not a right or wrong way of feeling,” she points out. “But if you think you should feel otherwise, you should work on what you are experiencing right now”.

“I… I don’t understand,” Kazemaru hums, trying to be honest there. He knows what he is doing in this place. He’s getting better, and he wants to get better. It has been easy for him to accept the fact that he needs a therapist, that he needs that help, if only to get out of that dark place. And from the very first moment, he has been honest, to her but foremost to himself.

But being honest is not enough when you can’t properly understand the path that is developing in front of you.

She gives two taps of the pen to the notebook and she rises her eyes to the clock on the wall. “Maybe it’s too late to talk about this, but we should get in there next time, don’t you agree?”

“U-uhm… I guess so…” Kazemaru replies. He is always the last one, but even if there are many patients in the structure and she has a lot of clients, she remains assertive and listens closely to everything he has to say. Kazemaru has figured out that he is easy to supervise, which is a relief and a disappointment at the same time. A relief because the last thing he wants to be is a sort of bother for anyone, and a disappointment because something about it tells him that his problems are not that much to handle and he shouldn’t make a big deal about them. He should get over them naturally.

Maybe he is overthinking.

“The fact is, I grew very curious about your friend, Endou Mamoru,” his therapy giggles. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but it seems like it’s a key character in everyone’s story. Many of your teammates talked me about him”.

“He truly is,” Kazemaru admits, “He’s responsible for many of our life choices, after all. And I…”

He stops at that. He almost says it, but then he recedes. She looks at him attentively, expecting him to go on, but without really pressuring him to. Kazemaru struggles. He owes Endou many of the bright things that happened in his life. He knows he should be happy. He should be happy for having such a good friend. Why is it so hard for him to embrace his light? Why does he think he needs something _more_ from Endou Mamoru? Why does he need… something _else_ than Endou Mamoru?

“There’s no need to think about it right now. We have all the time,” his therapist reassures him, smiling fondly, “but something is telling me… you’ll tell me a very interesting side of this story. Something none of your teammates have ever thought about”.

Kazemaru stays silent as he observes the intrigued gaze the therapist is giving him from behind her glasses. She seems genuinely invested in what his mind has to offer. Maybe he is her new test case, as he was for the Aliea Gakuen. He decides he doesn’t care anymore.

If it’s the only way to willingly get out of that darkness, he’ll walk it.

“Alright,” she says, closing her notebook with a quick gesture. “Enough for today. It’s time for dinner”. She reaches for the little coffee table at her side and slides out two more tissues. As she offers them to him, she assumes a very solemn expression. “And because you are the last one, you win these precious extra Kleenex, because I’m a merciful person”.

Kazemaru chuckles at the joke. He knows she is mocking him for that time they met for the first session and was too shy to ask for a tissue, even when his face became a weepy mess. He learned his lesson when she declared that the structure provided her at least ten boxes per day.

He takes the tissues. He hasn’t cried too much. He just feels numb and he needs to blow his nose.

“See you in the refectory then,” she smiles at him as he gets up (actually, he sort of reemerges) from his seat.

“Sure,” he says, picking up his things and pocketing the tissues, “Thank you, Nakamura-sama”.

“Take care,” she salutes him, as he closes the door behind him.

Kazemaru proceeds to walk the hallway towards the common bathrooms. Usually, he doesn’t return to his room after his therapy sessions, but he needs to wash his face before going to the refectory. It wouldn’t make a difference, since his puffy eyes are very visible even after hours he has really cried, but he feels glad everyone in that place is experiencing the same things as him, so none will ever judge.

Being in a place like this has made him very aware of how appearances can be overcome when it’s about addiction, and everyone there is dealing with the same addiction, so it’s fine. In a sense, seeing others showing their own fragilities is the thing that reassures him the most, because this means that he is not the only one to find everything so hard. He should be positive and today he feels very positive. No need to obsess over being decent-looking or composed.

In the bathroom, he reaches for the water and dips his hands under the stream, taking a large quantity and splashing it on his face. One, two, three times. It’s refreshing. He doesn’t feel too dizzy anymore. He should be fine for the night.

The day has been good. Doctors raised the dose of the medication and he feels alright: it’s the first time since he came in that place. No more pain, no more hallucinations, just good. He just hopes he’ll remain like this in eternity, the sole thought of the Aliea meteorite fogging his mind no more.

But doctors warned him: the cure is still far from being the definitive one and he still needs a lot of checks first. It’s too soon to say what they prescribed him is the right dosage, if only because most of his attacks happen at night and he hasn’t slept over it yet.

Dinner, first.

When he steps in the refectory and steps in line to get his assigned serving, he immediately thinks that the mood is unusually good for everyone in the room. Kazemaru wonders if they too have had their raise of drugs. In a way, he hopes so. He like to think to everyone else at the same level as him, because the sole feeling that there may be someone in a better condition than him scares him.

When he spots Karimatsu, he waves at him. He is talking to Handa about some nuisances and he looks like he is excited for something. Handa is listening quietly to whatever he has to say.

“ _Wassup_?” he salutes them, pretty light-hearted at the moment.

“Ichi-kun!” Karimatsu greets him, making space for him on the bench, even if they are the only ones at the table.

Kazemaru smiles at the nickname. He gave him the permission to call him like that when they discussed things right after they disbanded Dark Emperors: Karimatsu wanted him to be less detached and as a compromise they decided he would have called him like that. Karimatsu wanted for them to feel more like friends. Kazemaru has allowed him to get a little closer, but not as much to find a nickname for him too. They are fine like this, he guesses.

“Karimatsu is telling me every single compliment the doctors has given him in the last 24 hours,” Handa snorts.

“Yes!” Karimatsu cries out, too excited to properly respond to the mockery, “I’m doing good with the therapy and made a lot of progress! One or two weeks and I’m out of here, I tell you!”

“So, good news,” Kazemaru says with a smile. “Wait for Someoka to find out, he’ll be jealous as hell”.

Handa leans over Karimatsu and points out: “Actually, I heard that he’s doing fine too. It’s not a surprise. We have been the team who was exposed to the Aliea meteorite for the shortest time, after all”.

“Yes, and its effects were not prolonged after we used it that one time,” Karimatsu adds, even if there’s no need, since it’s something his doctors told him too. “We have been lucky, truth to be told”.

Kazemaru simply mutters a weak “yes”, because he feels a strange feel of anxiety at that. He doesn’t feel lucky. At all. In fact, he constantly feels like he is chased by misfortunes. But he can’t tell Karimatsu, or he’d ask him to elaborate, and he’s too drained for that.

Thankfully for him, Handa takes the floor. “Many teams can’t brag our blessing,” he says, moving his eyes towards the table in front of them, where Gemini’s members are quietly eating their dinner. All but one.

They already noticed him, because it’s nearly impossible to glass over those empty eyes scrutinizing the plate in front them like they can see through it. It’s been a week already and Reize… no, this is not his name, but he doesn’t really remember… Anyway, it’s been a week and the only thing they saw him eating is an apple. And sometimes, they saw his teammates being all over him, encouraging him and pleading him to eat something, but _it’s been a week_ and they all seems like the have given up. Except for “Diam”, apparently, since he is the only one still holding the spoon in front of Reize’s face.

Reize is irresponsive.

“He really creeps me out,” Karimatsu says, “That thing ate his whole brain”.

“That’s rude,” Handa reprimes him, but he can see through his vigilant eyes that he thinks the same.

Kazemaru wants to respond to that. It’s difficult. Words are floating in his head and it takes some time for him to find them a coherent order. “Actually, that’s not one of the meteorite’s effects”.

_Why does he care? Is he defending it?_

“Aliea Gakuen hypnotized him and… when they thought he was of no use anymore, they left him without memories for the time being,” he explains, “the only thing he knows it’s his addiction, yes, but it’s not because of the drug he’s in this state. At least this is what I heard”.

“That’s terrible…” Handa comments.

“He can’t continue like this any longer, isn’t it?” Karimatsu frowns. “I mean, they can’t simply feed him every single time”.

Kazemaru shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Anyway, this made me remember about something”.

“What?” Karimatsu and Handa look at him with attentive and serious eyes, expecting him to say something really important. Kazemaru in these moments feels less like himself and more like the captain he couldn’t ever be. It’s a powerful feeling.

Kazemaru smiles, hoping to lift the mood a little. “I forgot to pick up the spoon for the soup”.

“Oh, you!” Karimatsu exclaims. “You got me with this one!”

“Once in a while I’m not in a bad mood, so this is what you get,” Kazemaru replied, showing is tongue. He can see his friends smiling too and he feels better.

He gets up and walks through the rows of tables, his eyes wandering over the heads of his peers to look at the counter. There’s only one spoon left on the tray. As he gets closer, he mumbles to himself that this could be his lucky day.

Except, it isn’t.

Because before he can even reach the counter the spoon just disappears in the sleeve of another patient. Fudou Akio. Who appeared to be in sight, but it’s not like Kazemaru pays attention to everyone and everything getting in his visual range. Fudou doesn’t seem to be of the same habit, since he grins at him and says, in an unpromising high-pitched tone: “Too bad!”

He knows Fudou from the fight with the Absolute Royal Academy, but he really hasn’t had the chance to confront him about it, so he can’t help but to be annoyed at the mere memory of him. It doesn’t make sense, since every victim of the Alia Gakuen has the same right as his to be there, he just… from what he has seen, Fudou is clearly beyond any form of redemption. Someone so close to a human being like Kageyama and nonetheless so enthusiastic to follow him can only lead to nothing good, right?

He doesn’t think he is being judgmental, just realistic.

It’s like Fudou can see his discomfort right from his face, because his tone thereafter is one of the most infuriating ones. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s just like that, isn’t it?”

And Kazemaru knows, he just _knows_ that he is trying to provoke him, he is Fudou after all. But he really can’t stop himself and at those words, he frowns. “Can you explain?”

“I’ve noticed it too. The lack of reflexes, I mean. There’s really nothing you can do about it” Fudou explains, giving him that sly smile of him. “Without the meteorite, we get weaker and weaker by the day. It’s not your fault you are so _slow_ ”.

And Kazemaru shouldn’t be bothered by a ridiculous statement like this, but _he is_. “I’m not getting weaker and I’m not slow,” he mutters, running a hand through his face. “What do you even need that spoon for?”

“I’m getting an extra yogurt,” Fudou chirps.

Kazemaru sighs. Fudou can’t really give up so easily, isn’t it? “Can’t we find a compromise? I still have to eat my soup”.

He knows he has just fallen for Fudou’s game when he sees him looking at him in amusement and he hears him spourting out: “Oh? You sure are _slow_ ”.

Kazemaru likes being in control, and he realizes that in this very moment he’s _not_. He can’t understand how something like this could happen: it’s true that he is more vulnerable since the week he has already spent there, but he couldn’t believe someone (yes, even someone like Fudou) could read him so easily and know exactly what hurts him most. Or maybe, Fudou is a very lucky guy and simply good at guessing. Could it be that for an ex athlete like he is, the mere fact he is suffering because he feels like he’s becoming slower than ever… is just an obvious consequence? He really is _that_ predictable? Kazemaru almost wishes he was deeper than that.

Fudou is looking at him with his sharp bright eyes, and Kazemaru feels exposed, like if Fudou could read through his own mind. The only way to stop him to do that is to look away, probably… but somehow, he _can’t_. The only thing that actually snaps him out of it is Karimatsu’s hand firmly pressed on his shoulder, guiding him back to Earth.

“Are you alright, Ichi-kun?”

Kazemaru blinks and turns his head slightly, to look at Karimatsu in the face. “Yeah, it’s fine. Can I borrow your spoon? I’ll give it a wash in the bathroom”.

“Sure,” Karimatsu smiles at him, then his gaze moves to Fudou, still standing there with that smug grin of his. Kazemaru imitates him and gives him a hard stare, before turning his back on him and coming back to the table with Karimatsu at his side.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Karimatsu whispers at his ear as they have left him past behind. “You are shivering, dude…”

“I said _I’m fine_ ,” he glares at him, and his friend shuts up in fear.

Finally, some silence.

That’s how things should be every single day.

The dorms are also quiet. Every door overlooks the inner courtyard, so sometimes they can hear the small conversations spent from side to side or the arguing of some roommates over anything stupid. Thankfully, even if Someoka can be a hothead in some occasions, they aren’t that type of roommates, maybe because they know each other well enough at this point, and if Someoka has something to say, he usually confronts him about it on the soccer field (in the middle of the night, when nobody can actually hear them). Kazemaru appreciates that, because he’s always been a reserved person, thank you. He just wishes Someoka weren’t so hard on him every time, making him faint for exhaustion and then proclaiming himself as the winner over some argument he couldn’t even remember at that point. That was Someoka, competitive to extremes but too funny to hold him a grudge.

When he sees him entering their room, his swim bag over his shoulders and hands in his pockets, he looks up from his magazine and waves at him.

“Yo,” Someoka salutes him, visibly tired from the workout. “How was your day?”

“Same stuff as usual,” he lies at him. He’s glad he came back in time, so he can go to sleep early, too. “How’s the water?”

“Colder than yesterday,” he laments (but he is always whining about something, to be honest).

Kazemaru closes his magazine and he places it on the nightstand at his right. “You go swimming a lot these days,” he comments.

“Yeah, you know I like some alone time. And dinner time is perfect for some alone time”.

“I wish I hadn’t my sessions so late,” Kazemaru complains, “I’d love to ruin that for you”.

Someoka grunts but he is smiling, actually. He takes one of his pillows and throws it at him, Kazemaru catches it mid-air and he sends it back. Then he starts unfolding the covers, urging himself to get under before Someoka can react.

“To be fair, I wouldn’t mind,” Someoka mutters, holding a yawn. “Swimming is good for you. You should come over more often”.

Kazemaru makes himself comfortable and gives him a mocking look. “Are you saying that you are quitting soccer?”

Someoka chuckles. “Soccer is my first and only love, you know. But… I’m just glad I can try some new things being here. It’s refreshing”.

Kazemaru is not surprised to hear that from him. Soccer has given him many disappointments, too: he understands. Thinking about the moment Someoka joined him in the Dark Emperors, he quite remembers the way he looked at him when he urged his teammates to take revenge ( _consciously_ , with _his own_ words: Kazemaru has still regrets). Kazemaru has seen the hurt in Someoka’s eyes, the way he felt like he wasn’t good enough, the rage to which all this led, until it burst. Kazemaru almost considered him his second in command, because he had to admit that his strong and bossy personality was able to bring everyone together more than whatever he would do.

… and that’s quite it, Kazemaru can’t see Someoka having the same inferiority complex as him, but in some things they are similar, at least in the way they look for the same drastic answers to their discomfort. But Someoka is looking for a way out, he can tell, and he is succeeding. Things like taking new challenges, finding out new things to be passionate about and kill time… Someoka’s new way is probably a healthy way, and he is determined to follow it to the end.

Kazemaru feels stuck, still. Walking in circle through the same patterns. Slower and slower, day by day.

He closes his eyes.

“Are you even listening to me, uh?!”

Someoka’s annoyed voice reaches his ears and Kazemaru just turns his back at him. “I’m sorry, I’m tired,” he says, hoping he’ll understand, and he won’t make a fuss over the next week or worst. But actually, he doesn’t have too much time to think about it, since he can feel his own thoughts getting slow and dizzy, almost incoherent. And then he is gone.

Not for long, though.

When he wakes up again, it’s because he had had a nightmare he doesn’t remember of, but it’s still present even after he opens his eyes and he tries to scream. He is wailing. It’s enough for Someoka to jolt on his own bed, turning at him in confusion and turn on the light. “What the…?!”

His words come at him in a single sound. Kazemaru sits up on his bed and feels heavier than ever; it hurts all over, he can’t really move more than this. And he feels himself gasping and wheezing, tears running through his cheeks and hands trembling uncontrollably. He feels like dying, and in a way, he hopes so.

“Kazemaru? Are you ok?!” Someoka calls, making a mess with his covers and almost tripping over them, but Kazemaru can’t really see him. Everything is so blurry and twisted, like an old videogame that someone sped up.

Someoka’s out of his bed in no time and it feels unreal. Kazemaru looks at him in horror. How is Someoka so fast? How is he so fast he can’t even control his reactions to that incredible speed anymore? Kazemaru just wants to scream, and scream again, instead he is crying and whispering: “How?”

Someoka is looking at him like he has grown two more heads and at this point he would believe it.

“Kazemaru, are you alright? Was it… was it a bad dream?”

 _No_. Like, yes. But the dream is going on in his own head and at this point he can’t really tell what is real and what is not. He barely feels like himself. He just knows he is hurting everywhere, like if a million of needles were piercing his bare skin. He is looking at Someoka but he can’t really see him and he’s crying and sobbing and he feels a mess. “How… how you doin’ it?” he finally stutters out, “How can you do it?”

“What? What are you saying?” Someoka stammers. He is probably panicking. He can’t really handle situations like these. “I’m calling a nurse,” in fact he says, and it takes all Kazemaru’s self-awareness (very poor at this point) to scream at him _not_.

Someoka moves in front of him. No way he is a normal human being in this moment. He’s too fast, too quick, too attentive for him to be _just himself and nothing else_. Kazemaru feels betrayed.

“What you want me to do?! You went into withdrawal! And I’m not your fucking doctor!”

Deep down, Kazemaru knows Someoka is just worried, but it still hurts to hear that from him. He can’t be in withdrawal, he refuses. “Tell me!” he cries out in a high-pitched voice he doesn’t recognize. “Admit it! Just admit it!”

Someoka is practically rambling at that: “Admit _what_?! For fuck’s sake, we said _no screaming_ in the dormitory, I thought…”

Someoka must cut out the bullshit. It’s the only coherent thought that passes through his mind and he is almost proud of it. Kazemaru looks at him with all the hatred he is capable of. “ _You are using it!_ ”

At that, Someoka petrifies. Finally. Kazemaru almost feels like smiling. Just finally. Finally, he can feel like talking to him, being at the same level, _equals_ for once. If he’ll feel like it, he will forgive Someoka for such a thing, thinking he could hide something like that to him and get away with it, and _not sharing with him in the first place_.

But as the silence falls between them, his rough huffing as the only noise audible in the room, Kazemaru looks at Someoka and all he sees is just pure horror. Despair. Pity. It’s a kind of expression he never saw him do. And it’s all for him.

Kazemaru can’t understand why.

But before he can say anything else, Someoka has already reached the door and in a second he is past it, too fast for him to catch his wrist and stop him, too upset to close the door behind too, and Kazemaru is shivering for the cold already.

“Tell me! Where are you hiding it! Someoka!” he tries one last time, but his roommate must be million miles away by now.

He flops on the pillows with a thud and slowly, slowly, he raises his arms right in front of his face. He is still all there, just heavier and slower than ever. Too slow to realize it. It hurts all over and he just wants to cry.

He just passes out.

When he wakes up the morning after, Someoka is gone. His eyes linger over to the nightstand, searching for his alarm. He forgot to switch it on the night before, but it really isn’t a surprise because it happens every time. It’s 8 in the morning and he feels like pure crap.

He sits up, feeling his headache growing at every second passing. But he must blame himself for this: making a scene has a cost, and his body likes to remind him of it every single time. He looks around, looking for a message from Someoka, but there’s not even a piece of paper. Usually, Kazemaru would call him; but since in rehab they aren’t allowed to have a phone with them (just two calls per day, and not even as long as he’d like), communication is really reduced to the essential. However, this time in the morning, Kazemaru knows where he is anyway.

He doesn’t know why he feels so calm, because from the few things that he can recollect from the night before, he did a mess. Like, a huge mess. Someoka is going to kill him, no matter what, even in front of everyone if it’s really necessary. But now he feels dizzy, and confused, and in a state of general numbness he can’t physically comprehend. It’s like he hasn’t slept a single minute and he really needs to.

He gets up and wears his sweatshirt over his pajama, which is a basic t-shirt anyway. As he takes his jeans from his chair, he looks at the mirror at the other side of the room and looks at himself. He looks more like a ghost and less than a boy. His eyes are puffy for all the crying and his face is so pale that his blue hair gets at him like a punch. He goes to the bathroom to get it together but it’s a lame attempt and everything he can accomplish is styling his hair in a half-decent bun.

He doesn’t meet anyone on the way to the field, probably because since that little time before breakfast has been converted in hours of practice, literally everyone in that building attends them with a pathological enthusiasm. Kazemaru knows everyone there likes playing soccer but this is pure madness, he just wishes he could sleep a bit more to be honest.

When he gets there, he spots Someoka off the field, having a thick conversation with the others about something Kazemaru can clearly imagine. He can’t see Someoka’s face because he is giving him his back; but he can glimpse Karimatsu’s one and it’s the depiction of distress. Shishido’s hands are both sunk in his thick, red hair, and Kageno is shaking his head softly. Kazemaru can feel a knot right on his stomach, knowing that he is the very cause of their anxiety, and deep down he wishes they were simply free from the burden he has become.

Because it’s not the first time. They know that dark part of him already. It’s not like it’s the first crisis he has had, he has had many of them, even before coming in this place. They simply _know_ how things are. The only moment Kazemaru felt secure and reliable around them was with the Alius’ meteorite around his neck and the thought makes him want to puke.

Now he just has to play his role: the role of the miserable, pitiful, fallen captain.

“Hey guys,” he murmurs as he gets closer, his clenched hands hidden in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

“Ichi-kun!” Karimatsu exclaims, and everyone turns around to look at him. Someoka isn’t saying anything, he just stares at him and keeps his arms crossed tightly.

“Are you okay, Kazemaru-kun?” Handa asks, all serious.

Everyone is looking at him and he just wishes he could disappear forever.

“I’m… fine, I guess,” he tries to reply, his throat still harsh. “I just had trouble sleeping”.

Karimatsu’s eyes widen in confusion. “Wait, don’t you rememb-“ he tries to say, but Someoka gives him one of his most intimidating glares.

Kazemaru looks at him and he knows Someoka isn’t mad at him, or if he even was, he isn’t anymore. He is glad he is trying to protect him from probing questions, since he isn’t sure he can answer them in the first place. As he meets his gaze, he gives him a little nod of gratitude.

Matsuno seems to understand the situation too. “Today we are having a friendly match with Saginuma. You up for it?” he asks with a smile, shaking off a bit of the tension.

“Sure,” he says, a bit concerned about it. He isn’t even sure if he can stand on his own feet.

He looks at the other side of the field and sees Saginuma’s silhouette standing out even in the sea of people that came to play the match, or simply watch it by afar. Even if he is one of Alius Gakuen first victims, he always sounds and looks great and Kazemaru envies him. Saginuma has kept the charisma of a captain and the attitude of a General, and even after he has been separated from his original team in order to “dismantle the hierarchy” he’s unstoppable. His new teammates have started to call him “Lord Desarm” too, which is almost comical to see, but secretly fascinating. Kazemaru doesn’t know if Saginuma is completely crazy or a very self-aware man, he just wants to know his secret, because on the contrary he feels like he has completely lost himself.

It’s not like he has any chance to catch it on the field since he is exhausted to say the least and can’t do shit. He doesn’t even know who the goalkeeper is, since Takeshi left the place after only three days (he sure has a solid mind), but he must hate him for sure, he can’t block a single passing. And after only fifteen minutes, he is quite done and he has to get benched for everyone’s sake.

He just sits there, vision blurry and out of breath, maybe cursing that time he has joined the soccer team. Seeing his teammates playing hurts, so much that at some point he must look away and concentrate on something else.

And then he sees him, on the opposite bench, lying there like he hasn’t a care in the world, his head pressed against his palm. Fudou looks bored. When they make eye contact, he smiles and waves at him and Kazemaru wishes he could kill him from there, but he can’t.

He can’t help but notice that there’s a strange light in his eyes.

Eventually, he comes at him. Kazemaru has expected that and surely he doesn’t’ want to be intimidated again by someone like him, but he is tired and feels his head throbbing with fatigue. Fudou reaches him as he sits down under a tree, glancing at Saginuma and Someoka bickering because the match has ended in a draw. There’s plenty of time before breakfast and Kazemaru just hopes to be alone a little, waiting for the day to start. But of course, Fudou is not on the same line as his.

“You really sucked out there,” he promptly mocks him.

“Get lost, Fudou,” Kazemaru pouts, sinking his head between his legs. He can’t stand this guy and he doesn’t know why he has targeted him of all people.

Fudou grins and leans against the tree with a hand, just to look down at him and get a clear shot, Kazemaru guesses. “Don’t be silly, I’m just worried about your wellbeing. Can’t I?”

“Not if your name is Fudou Akio,” Kazemaru replies, pissed. What is wrong with this guy? He really has been the very cause of his nightmares and if it wasn’t for him, now he wouldn’t feel like if he is in trouble. Because no way he’ll make it through the day without a doctor coming at him and prescribing him another stupid anxiolytic. He feels really nervous at the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t engage a conversation with this asshole, after all. But a part of him (the twisted part of him he is trying to drown in the mud) wants to make him pay, so he looks up at him, too stubborn to give in already. “They really can’t stand you, uh? Your ass was stuck to the bench the whole time”.

Fudou raises an eyebrow and tilts his head in amusement. “You sure have a tongue”.

Kazemaru takes a big breath. “I don’t think they would befriend someone like you anyway, such a bastard”.

The answer takes Fudou by surprise, he flinches and backs a little. Kazemaru himself is trembling all over because he’s not used to talk like that, or generally to stand up for himself, but there is to say that Fudou is really getting to his nerves. He’s pretty sure Fudou is the cause of his problems. The trigger of all this mess. And it’s all just because he wanted to make a fool out of someone like him.

“Woah dude,” Fudou exclaims, “What the hell?!”

Kazemaru jumps on his feet, frowning. “This is what you get for being a jerk!”

“What did I do?” Fudou barks at him.

“You know what!”

Fudou’s face is pale and his façade is gone. He is not even near to his level of frustration right now but Kazemaru feels satisfied anyway. He deserves to feel what he felt, for once. And he’s sure he is making a favor to everyone there, making him get off his high horse.

But even if he thinks all of these things, he feels guilty for it. Kazemaru doesn’t want to waver, to show his weakness once again, but deep down… he really can’t manage all that anger. So he just clenches his fists and stares at him with the most accusing eyes he can manage to bring out.

Fudou is not weak, though. He can feel it in the way he lifts his arms and looks at him bitterly. His voice is rough and loud. “I stole you a spoon, man! What is this pettiness all for?!” he growls. Kazemaru gazes at the field, but almost everybody has left for the refectory, so no way they will be heard.

“You called me _slow_ ,” Kazemaru mumbles. “You knew what you were doing, don’t play dumb”.

Kazemaru looks at Fudou’s face changing and he knows he is _furious_. He has the same light in his eyes that has seen him doing during the match and Kazemaru tries to hold it together, but he has to admit that it’s scaring him. His eyes are so bright and full of rage and spite, they are more than enough to intimidate him.

“That was it? Me calling you a _slow_ motherfucker? What’s wrong with you?!” Fudou responds.

Kazemaru realizes how dumb it sounds once put like that. He frowns. “You said…” Kazemaru gulps, “You said it was because we don’t have the Alius’ meteorite with us anymore…”

“Because it’s what it is…?!” Fudou yells in his face. “Haven’t you seen that thing just now?! People were so damn addicted by that shit that they can’t keep a ball, rolling around like fucking grazing sheep! Are you really calling me a bastard for _showing you the damn truth_?!”

Uh oh.

Kazemaru falls silent. Fudou _might be_ a jerk, but he really doesn’t know what those words meant for him, he doesn’t know anything about last night, maybe he doesn’t even give a damn about knowing his weaknesses just to mess with him, like he thought. Kazemaru realizes in a moment that he was… wrong.

Again.

But it’s too late to recognize something like that and now he has to endure the consequences of his own actions. Fudou is mad as hell, probably he isn’t used to be yelled at for something he _hasn’t really done_ , and Kazemaru wants to disappear. Right now. Damn him and his stupid, silly insecurities that (obviously) nobody could really know unless they were told about them. Who is the real jerk here?

“I…” he tries to say, but he has ignited Fudou’s fire for good.

Sometimes he wonders how comes he can bring so much negativity in the life of someone else.

“I can’t believe it,” Fudou mutters, shaking his head. “I thought you were one of the decent ones”.

Kazemaru frowns at that. “ _What?_ ”

“I see it from the way you look at me, you are like everybody else,” Fudou spits out. “Looking down at me like you are somehow better. Well, if one of my words is really enough to reach you and make you upset, that’s enough for me... it means I’m making your pedestal crumble and I’m down for it”.

Kazemaru wants to speak out, to say that he’s not like this, but he knows he’s lying even to himself. He really thought he was unredeemable. The sense of shame that rises from his guts makes him want to cry: why is he like this? Why he really can’t be a good person, for once in his lifetime? Why does he feel the need to hurt others?

Fudou is so close he could stomp on him, his noses almost colliding. Kazemaru is thrown in the ice blue of his red eyes. “ _Don’t you dare call me a bastard_ ” he hisses.

“I don’t… I didn’t mean…” Kazemaru trembles and feels the first tears coming down his cold cheeks. He is stunned. Stunned by the fierceness of his gaze pointed at him like Fudou wants to eviscerate him. He is scared. He shouldn’t be. But he’s also so, so ashamed. So much he can’t breathe, and everything is starting to go numb around him and inside him, because for the first time… he can see Fudou is _hurt_ , too.

It’s just a glimpse. Then Fudou retreats, satisfied with what he has achieved and also trying to hide from him. Kazemaru can tell it by the way his shoulders swing, and he gives him his back, putting his trembling fists in his pockets and marching towards the facility. He turns around just once, when he’s already over the soccer field and Kazemaru can’t really see him anymore because he has already burst in tears.

“Get a grip! You _snowflake_!”

It really seems like everyone has his own ghosts, after all.


	2. I'll feel better when the winter's gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, this fic isn't even half finished yet and it costed me some drama already, but at the same time I never imagined that I would be receiving all those kudos! I'm so grateful.   
> I'm sorry if this chapter isn't of the highest quality, I'm struggling a lot with this language and I'm sure I made too much mistakes to keep count. Hope it's fine. Please, be patient!!  
> Thank you for your support!  
> Love you, 
> 
> Fay

“Are you saying that… it’s his fault?”

Two whole days has passed and Kazemaru doesn’t feel any better, but he has to answer at least to this question because he’s pretty sure it’s an important one. He tries to recollect his thoughts and produce a coherent sound. Usually his therapist is very collaborative, but in these tiring days it almost seems like she is doing everything to make things more difficult.

“It’s… it’s not like that,” he finally says after a while. “It’s just… When I suggested using Aqua of Gods, it was like… I felt like Endou didn’t understand me. At all. He kept saying that what I wanted was wrong, and… For a moment, I just _hated_ him. It’s not his fault, but I really hated him, and I…” He tries to not cry at the mere thought of what happened then. “I had never felt so bad in my entire life”.

She hums. She looks interested, as if their conversation is taking an unexpected turn. “This is completely different from what your teammates told me, if I have to be honest”.

Kazemaru scoffs a laugh, shaking his head. Of course, he must be the black sheep in everything he does. His resentment towards Endou is not something he could explain, especially to people who has always viewed him as their sort of life coach. “I… I told you already. Endou is… special,” he recalls. “Everyone who runs towards his light… feels almost recharged, like if they have eventually found their purpose”.

There’s some silence after that, like she is waiting for him to say something more, then she sighs.

“But you haven’t.”

“… But I haven’t”.

Nakamura-sama takes a big breath. Then she lowers her notebook on the coffee table and crosses her legs. “Tell me one thing, Kazemaru…” she starts to say.

Kazemaru listens attentively and gives her a quite confused look: he knows that she has something in mind, but he can’t really follow her, not in these conditions.

She leans her torso towards him, looking at him with a serious face. Then she comes out with an unexpected: “Is he Jesus?”

Kazemaru flinches, eyes wide with the shock: “W-what? No!!” he sputters out.

She smiles at once, almost relieved. “Then, if he isn’t Jesus, no way he is capable of something so extraordinary”.

Kazemaru can’t stop thinking about the cursed image of Endou having radiant halo over his head. “But…”

Nakamura-sama stops him immediately. “He is a very charismatic person, that’s for sure,” she admits, “but it’s impossible for him to have such a superpower”.

He feels bamboozled and a bit humiliated, but he keeps listening to what she has to say nonetheless.

“So, I want to assure you, there’s nothing you have failed to catch, really, because there isn’t something there in the first place”. She smiles big and she seems relaxed, so that Kazemaru feels like melting just looking at her. In a way, she is very similar to Endou-san, just more inclined to listen to him. It’s part of her job, obviously.

“But he just… why I feel this way?” he weakly asks.

Nakamura-sama brings her hand under her chin in a conspiratory way. “You might have waited too long for a sort of revelation from him, and you overestimated his influence on you,” she suggests, but Kazemaru knows already that she has another answer ready for him. “ _Or_ …”

Kazemaru almost keeps his breath and feels almost enchanted by her words and the ways she is able to reassure him with just a gaze. She is now closing her eyes, almost severe. “On the contrary, could it be that such a light… is harming you”.

Kazemaru has to flinch at that. “What do you mean?!” he exclaims, “Endou would never!”

Just for a moment, the thought that Endou could do something so vile to him crosses his mind and Kazemaru wants to reject it with everything he has. He might be corrupt and full of darkness; but Endou must stay out of this. He can’t believe Endou would knowingly harm anyone, or have those mischievous intents that could only be his own. Kazemaru realizes in this exact moment that he wouldn’t mind being targeted as the evil one, if this means keeping Endou safe. “I’d never lead him to do something like that,” he reinforces, “Endou is not like this, he wouldn’t hurt anyone of his friends; and even if I were the one to lead him to do it, well…”

Nakamura-sama shakes her head and shows him her hands, like she is trying to calm him down. “No such thing, you misunderstood me,” she says then. Kazemaru falls silent: again, he can’t follow her.

“I’m just suggesting that whatever this friend represents in your life, it’s not the thing you need the most right now,” she explains. “You said it yourself: you feel like he doesn’t understand you, isn’t it?”

Kazemaru just nods, feeling guilty for thinking something like this, but unable to deny it.

“This is probably because you have very different personalities and different ways to cope with situations,” she concludes, “Ad sometimes… they simply collide”.

Kazemaru lowers his gaze to the floor. He thinks about Endou, always bright and positive, his confidence unsinkable. And then there it is, someone like him. Someone incapable to feel good in any situation, whenever Endou is by his side or not. “… There are times I feel… bad about myself,” he confesses, almost trembling. “I’m so negative. I always have something rude to say and I constantly see the glass as half empty,” he recalls. He thinks about all the times one of his sentences was able to dishearten everyone, and how Endou was ready to lift them up from the ground in any circumstance. This is something he has always been aware of, and now Kazemaru is realizing how much he hates himself for it. “I know that it’s harmful for everyone but… I can’t really help myself,” he whispers with broken voice, feeling his tears collecting at the corner of his eyes. Somehow, he thinks about Fudou, too. That burst and his suffering eyes. This is an image he can’t really cast out his head, not even after days has passed.

Nakamura waits some moments, handing him a tissue and patting him on his knee. In times like this, Kazemaru feels like a baby; but he knows he should get used to it.

“I think I know what you mean. But remember, Kazemaru: what you are is always something you can work on, as many times as you want,” she says softly. “However, you can’t expect to improve only considering other’s way of living. You are you,”

_He is what he is, yeah, that’s the fucking problem._

Nakamura-sama can’t hear his thoughts, and in a way he is glad, because it’is something that he still needs to keep for himself.

“It seems to me that you compare yourself with other people too much. And you know why? Because you… sort of idealize them”.

“I-idealize?” Kazemaru sniffs, not sure he knows what the word really means at this point.

Nakamura-sama nods. “Just think about it: you thought that Fubuki Shirou’s abilities surpassed yours. And you really thought it, since the first moment you met him”.

Kazemaru still thinks a lot about those days. Now Fubuki and him are friends, sure, but thinking about the way he hated him the first time they knew each other still scares him. He once talked to Someoka about it because in a way they experienced something similar, and his friend could easily explain the sense of resentment he felt for him, since he feared that he could take the place that Gouenji held in everyone’s heart. Kazemaru never had something so noble to say in his defense. He was jealous, so utterly jealous it hurt.

Nakamura-sama goes on and Kazemaru realizes that of course, this is about Endou too.

“You probably feel the same for Endou,” she reveals. “Not only you think that you’ll never reach his light, but also… you think you’ll never be like him. And you talk about him in terms that makes me wonder if you know him as well as you say”.

Kazemaru looks at her and he doesn’t quite understand it. “Endou is my best friend,” he tries to say, but his tongue is heavy and weak inside his mouth, like he knows what he is trying to suggest isn’t quite true. _He is my best friend_ , he thinks, _But what am I for him_? All those possible answers to that question make him shiver and the realization hits him hard, harder than ever. The look of concern on Nakamura-sama’s face tells him it’s not just a feeling, it’s _that_ time of the session. The time he has to put everything out to not explode right here and right now. He feels her hands covering his, tightly squeezing them.

“It’s ok, Kazemaru-san. You are doing so good. I got you. Let it out.”

He does.

Unsurprisingly, he must take more meds. So many that he can’t keep count of them without getting confused, so he keeps a memo. Mostly, they are supplements and vitamins, but there are at least two different anxiolytics and an antidepressant. There’s also a medication that should help him to control his addiction, but he can’t really name it without feeling the urge to throw up. It’s at the bottom of the list and Kazemaru hopes it will disappear soon.

He doesn’t feel like an addicted. Or at least, he doesn’t see himself as the depiction of what he thinks an addicted is. Addicted people are smelly, loud and noisy, always getting down to the lowest of the excuses to get what they want. Kazemaru is polite. He doesn’t yell at doctors even when he really would like to, and he doesn’t do anything he knows he would be ashamed of, trying to be good just to prove he is really handling this. In the last few days, he has found himself raising his guards towards everyone, the weight of the new prescriptions piling on his shoulders like it’s a sort of shame. He’s certain the others don’t know anything about this, but they sure have noticed that he has started to take meds even at lunchtime. If they really have, they say nothing about it. He’s glad.

Kazemaru doesn’t feel like an addicted, but he has cravings. Most of the times, they grab him at night, but they are less violent than the first ones and when he gets them, he must get out of the room and run, usually making two or three laps around the building to get relief. Even if it hurts. Even if he doesn’t get any sleep. Even if sometimes he falls and he can’t get up. And he knows that by the time he returns to their room, Someoka has noticed something, but again, he says nothing.

Sometimes he sees other patients, staying awake until the early morning. They are all from Aliea Gakuen. Most of them look miserable as he is, and they exchange looks, but mostly because they are living the very same hell and they can see it mirrored in each other’s eyes. Most of them just take long walks back and forth, but some others join him, and they end up running side by side without saying a word. It’s an odd way to make friends. There’s something eerie seeing all of them, a.k.a the very cause of his nightmares, showing their human side to him and helping him to get up, sometimes offering him their water bottles. And then when the sun rises above the horizon, they return to be strangers again.

Nobody says anything and Kazemaru is fine with it because he can pretend it isn’t happening.

Beside these encounters, most of the time he hangs out with his teammates and it’s not like they have something to really talk about, but it’s distracting because everybody just thinks more about what will await them after the program, and less about the very present. They are having breakfast all together and Handa is talking about the fact he wants to show Endou his new _hissatsu_. Someoka would like to keep on swimming, and he might try to convince Shirou to join him (“Just to take a good measure of my progresses, of course”). Kazemaru stays silent the whole time because the thought of facing Endou and Shirou makes his guts knot: he hasn’t called them for ages. He sips from his glass of water and takes his morning pill, taking a good look around him and trying to get distracted.

The atmosphere is quite different than last week, maybe because therapy is getting harder for everyone or maybe because he himself doesn’t feel as positive as he did then. Everything seems grey, composed, and quiet. All of the Aliea’s kids are munching on their plate and chattering among themselves, keeping their tone as low as possible, so the refectory seems desertic: Kazemaru almost feels guilty, being part of the most chaotic and noisy table in there, as if they are disturbing everyone. If that’s the case, nobody shows up to tell them, which is fine.

His gaze lingers over heads, until he notices that Fudou is there, too. Obviously, he is alone. Kazemaru can’t see anyone at his table with him and in a way, he isn’t surprised anymore. Unlike him, Fudou didn’t know his teammates that much before being recruited by the Aliea Gakuen, no wonder why they kinda have ostracized him for good. So, everything Kazemaru sees is Fudou’s back curved on his plate, and the playful and annoyed twist of fork that anticipates every bite, and the empty table in front of him.

Kazemaru doesn’t realize he is staring until something blocks his vision and he recognizes the color of Teikoku Gakuen’s uniform. Ashamed, he looks up, crossing Sakuma Jirou’s gaze: his eye is scrutinizing him almost intimidatingly.

“Can we sit here?” he asks.

Kazemaru squirms and rubs his eyes and glares at Genda, always at Sakuma’s side for whatever reason. He gives a look at his teammates, who seem ok with the newcomer since it’s rare to befriend anyone from the other teams. “Sure!” Shorin says enthusiastically, making space. Breakfast is the only time of the day they are all together, but there seem to be plenty of space for other two.

Kazemaru can’t help but feel uncomfortable: he is sure Sakuma is going to give them a hard time for being so noisy. He looks like the type. But as he sees Sakuma ignoring Shorin’s courtesy and making space between him and Someoka just to have a sit, he figures out that Sakuma must be here for a reason only. _Him_. The thought is quite scary.

“I see you don’t have any manners,” Someoka grumbles, receiving Genda’s severe glare. Sakuma turns at him just to apologize briefly, then he gets back at looking to Kazemaru, who is basically sweating at that point.

“We are here to warn you,” Sakuma says, under the astonished eyes of his teammates. “We saw you with Fudou the other day and we are worried.”

Karimatsu jumps from his seat just hearing at that name. “Is he saying the truth?!” he asks, “Fudou Akio? _Really_?”

“We had an argument,” Kazemaru admits through gritted teeth, because he hates this whole situation, it makes him look like he doesn’t know how to take care of himself. “But it’s fine, we sorted it out”.

He is lying because he knows there might be a lot to uncover right there, he just has to asks himself if he wants to.

“Please,” Sakuma snorts, “Everyone here had an argument with Fudou at least once. I’m not talking about that”.

Sakuma has a point. Kazemaru huffs and settles awkwardly on the bench, feeling uncomfortable.

“What we are saying is that we noticed the way he came at you the other day, and we suspect he has targeted you. Provoking is just his way of doing things. The moment you fall for it, he gets you”.

Kazemaru smile awkwardly. He respects Sakuma, he really doesn’t want to sound rude, but he finds his concern a bit ridiculous. “You are talking about him like he is a sort of predator”.

“Because he is,” Genda prompts, staring at him with a frown. Kazemaru gulps.

Finally, Sakuma seems to notice the tension between them, so his next words sound almost apologetical. “I know we don’t know each other that much, but you seem a smart guy. We just want you to stay safe. For what we know, he could still be in contact with Kageyama in a way or another. We went through it and we know how things work”.

Kidou told him a lot of things. Mostly, they all have been talks about Kageyama, what kind of monster he was, how Kidou feared him, how he feared he could hurt his friends again. Kazemaru thought nothing about it, at first. He has always believed that a man that atrocious wouldn’t have done a thing, if Sakuma and Genda hadn’t been so pathetic and vulnerable. This, until he became one of them. Then he learned the lesson. If there really was someone to blame, that was Kageyama; if there really was someone at fault, that was their abuser.

But Fudou had another role in this. What Fudou did was way more than despicable, being his right-hand man all along, recruiting and forcing as many players he could lay his hands on to join him, manipulating them into believing that revenge was their only choice left. Maybe it’s true that some things have changed; maybe it’s also true Fudou hasn’t read him that well, or as much as he fears. But that doesn’t mean what Kazemaru thinks it’s true, that Fudou isn’t trying, even now, to have him in the most subtle ways. Kazemaru thinks he understand Sakuma’s concern now and anxiety prevails on his doubts.

“Do you think he is playing the same game with me?” Kazemaru asks, now serious. He really can’t get out of his head the glimpse he has had of Fudou’s sorrow, that only trace of vulnerability that almost got to him like a flood. Could it be he has faked that, too? Kazemaru is not sure. He must admit that he hasn’t had many encounters with manipulators like him, if only, because he has been the biggest manipulator of himself.

Sakuma presses his lips together. Kazemaru can see his concern vividly, maybe he doesn’t even expect to be listened or believed. “The moment he makes you believe it is your fault, he has caught you on the hook”.

Kazemaru stays quiet, the guilt he felt just some days before floating on the surface.

“Let’s call Kidou tonight,” Handa says, “Fudou is too dangerous to not keep an eye on him”.

“Kazemaru, you should be careful,” Someoka reprimes.

Kazemaru nods, the thought making him tremble all over. He is tired of this. He is tired to be considered that weak, not only by Sakuma, not only by Fudou, but also by his friends. He can still recognize a threat like that. His mind is not that pliable that he has to be reminded even of something that obvious. And if that was the case, he must deal with it by himself, in any case.

Yes… he may be a bit overconfident, here.

Kazemaru doesn’t want to think about that just now.

The thing is, there’s nothing to do. Kazemaru really tries to stay productive and not waste his time, but it’s like he is supposed to sit there and space out all day. He has begun keeping a notebook to kill some time, doodling and making schedules to plan his monotonous routine. He now hangs around the gym of the facility, but it’s always clogged, since it’s not really spacious and there’s like… one hundred kids here with him who happen to enjoy workout as he does. So he has started to observe other peoples’ movements and figured out the best time slot for him, even if it seems to change every day. Same thing for the swimming pool, he now understands why Someoka gets back later and later (he probably just meets with the others to talk about him _without_ him, he knows, he just has refused to think about it too much).

He schedules everything: from the pills he has to take, to the best times to practice, run and swim. He makes sure he is always alone, in one way or another, but he can’t really set foot in the refectory if he knows there’s nobody waiting for him… which is strange. He knows he is running away from something, and that something isn’t meting his teammates per se… rather, t’s meeting them in places he doesn’t want them to be. Not when he’s there too, anyway.

Kazemaru enjoys his friends’ company. He almost wishes he wasn’t that stubborn to not let them know. But most of the time, he is alone; mostly because there’s so much he can handle being with the most chaotic, smiley and cheerful team of all. Being with them makes him feel almost alienated by the reality he is currently living, and he can’t really believe that even if they have been hurt by the Aliea’s influence as well, they stay positive and optimist, which is something he almost envies. They all want to get back to their previous lives. They want to get back to Raimon Eleven.

To Endou.

It’s a sentiment he can’t really share, and he fears the moment they will know, and they will try to force him into a feeling that doesn’t belong to him anymore.He is not ready to face Endou and everything he means to him.

So, where is his place now?

At the moment, it’s under the same tree, doodling around the edges of his schedules and wishing there was a more productive way to spend the time. He is getting better at tracing lines without a proper ruler, at least.

Karimatsu passes by after his appointment with the doctor is finished, and gives his notebook an interested look. He too notices all those perfect lines. “You are so gifted, Ichi-kun!” he praises him, “I could never!”

Kazemaru lifts his eyes on him and gives him a half-smile. “It’s nothing really, you just need some practice,” he tries to encourage him. “Besides, how did it go?”

At that, Karimatsu makes a strange face. He becomes paler, he stammers a bit, and clenches his fists a couple of times. “Uhm… about that…”

Kazemaru frowns: he thought that Karimatsu was getting better, like he has said just some days prior. Could it be that he has had a relapse? Kazemaru can’t feel nothing but concern, knowing that one of his best friends is suffering. He smiles at him, trying at his best to be reassuring. “You know you can always tell me, right?”

His words seem to have no effect at all. Karimatsu is still looking at him with his constipated face, struggling to stay stable on his own feet, slouching from one foot to the other. “Yeah…”

Kazemaru realizes then… that there’s something Karimatsu doesn’t really want to tell him. He blinks in confusion, even if he knows that he must have his reasons. He is like that, too. But in a way, it’s strange seeing Karimatsu being that nervous in front of him, and something seems really off.

“I… I think I’ll tell you,” the kid finally says, still nervous but at least he is smiling. “Tonight, after dinner”.

Kazemaru is still confused by his behavior but he nods anyway. “Okay…” he says, reluctant, watching him walking away from him. “But where are you going?”

“I forgot I have something to do,” Karimatsu waves at him, his pace accelerating. “See you later!”

Kazemaru sits back, mouth agape, as Karimatsu flies towards the dormitory like he is in flame, not sure if he has entirely realized what has just happened.

“But… You have just got here…”

For a while, he stays there, paralyzed and a bit concerned as he sees Karimatsu disappearing to the eye. At the end, the curiosity and the anxiety consume him enough that he can stand it no more, so he closes his notebook and proceeds to make a hell of a walk towards the facility, feeling he might combust from the apprehension. Karimatsu is hiding something from him and he doesn’t want to wait until nine to know what it is, that’s for sure, but he can’t find him anymore. So as soon as he sees Shishido’s red head, Kazemaru approaches him before he can escape too.

“Do you know where Karimatsu is? He was acting strange,” he asks bluntly before Shishido can even speak.

Shishido blushes violently and babbles something he can’t comprehend. Kazemaru crosses his arms on his chest, feeling upset, but trying to be understanding here since he knows Shishido is quite shy. “So?” he asks, trying not to sound too impatient. “Do you know anything?”

“I… I…” Shishido gulps. “I d-don’t know”.

“Well then, if you meet Karimatsu, tell him I’m looking for him”.

Shishido nods violently and then, unexpectedly, he smiles. It’s a nervous, condescending smile, and Kazemaru knows right away that _he has just lied to him_.

“So you _know_ something,” he assaults him, panic bubbling up his throat and making his voice raw.

Shishido raises his hands, palms turned to him like he is trying to calm him down. “I… I think you should talk with Someoka about this”.

“What does it even mean?!” Kazemaru frowns. “What’s with this secrecy?”

He can read it in Shishido’s small eyes, he would like to be anywhere else than here with him. But he tries to answer, in his own way, his stuttering clearly uncontainable. “K-Kazemaru-san… y-you s-see… There’s s-something we a-all have to tell y-you and w-we just…”

Kazemaru taps his foot on the ground. “Just what?” he asks, feeling like there’s no need to hide the fact that he is upset, because otherwise he would burst right on the spot.

“What’s happening here?” a voice grumble from behind him. Kazemaru turns around and sees an unfamiliar face. The guy has big bright eyes and scarlet hair, and he wears a worn-out sweatshirt with large pockets. Kazemaru recognizes one of Alius Gakuen’s captains, even if he doesn’t know his name. Behind him he can see that a big group of curious people had gathered, maybe attracted by the commotion.

“I’m sorry,” Kazemaru apologizes (still feeling too agitated to bow, though). “I didn’t mean to raise my voice this way”.

“Chill, my dude,” the guy says. “I’m here to enjoy the show”. Kazemaru looks at his face growing a big mischievous grin.

Remembering the fact that he is _supposed_ to be a way more reserved kind of guy, he glares at Shishido. “Come on, help me look for Someoka,” he mumbles, inviting him to get out of there. The dormitory is crowded with people he doesn’t know and whatever his friends have to say to him, he would like to be in a more private place by then.

The stranger stops him with a scoff. “Aren’t you from Raimon?” he says.

“Yes, and?” Kazemaru turns to him with a scowl.

His voice is almost muffled by his laughter. “Aren’t you being discharged this week? Do you really want to get detention your very last day here?”

Kazemaru blinks. _Discharged_? _This week_?

“We aren’t being discharged,” he murmurs. If any of his doctors had told him something so crucial, he would have remembered it for sure. He looks at Shishido. “… Are we?” he asks, confused by that information. Shishido is pale like he hasn’t taken a single day of sun in his life and he is looking down at his feet. “Shishido, are we being discharged?” he asks again, hoping to finally get an answer because if that’s the case… why is he so sad? Why both him and Karimatsu would be so nervous to tell him such good news?

Kazemaru gets a very bad feeling from it.

“W-we are…” Shishido says in a whisper.

“Then why…?”

Before he can end the sentence, another voice occurs: “Because not _all of us_ are”.

Kazemaru turns around and he sees all his teammates standing before him, Someoka at the front. Karimatsu is almost hiding behind his statuary body and so everyone else is. Kazemaru tries to ignore their afraid expressions and fixes his gaze on Someoka’s serious face, because he isn’t sure he can handle this.

“What do you mean?” he murmurs. He knows the answer already. He just doesn’t want to believe it, yet.

Karimatsu sighs. None of them says a word for a while. Even their audience falls silent, even if Kazemaru knows that all eyes are on him.

“We didn’t want to tell you like this,” Handa shakes his head, sadly. Shorin stands out, taking courage, but not knowing what to say. “We knew you weren’t ready yet, and we didn’t want to…” His words fade as he gives him a concerned look, with a bewildered expression on his face. Kazemaru kinda knows why. It’s like he is seeing a ghost. _And he feels like one_.

He looks around. Kageno is fiddling with his fingers, his eyes down. Shishido has grabbed his shirt and now he is giving him a desperate look. “Captain…” someone murmurs, maybe Matsuno.

Kazemaru wants to say something, but there’s a lump in his throat he can’t really swallow.

His eyes linger on Someoka, and on his sad expression. “We are sorry, Kazemaru-san,” he is saying softly.

Kazemaru blinks under the cold November sun. He should say something. He should be glad they will be able to get their life on track, return to their training, meet their families and their friends again, and start over. He should be relieved that he hasn’t ruined their life completely after all, that they will stand onto their feet again. He should be ashamed for the looks of pity and apprehension they are giving him. He should know he doesn’t deserve them.

But a part of him… that damned, twisted part of him… is just mad jealous and Kazemaru doesn’t know how to control this feeling anymore.

“Fuck it,” he whispers, almost inaudible even to himself.

“What?” Shishido asks him. He presses a hand on his shoulder in concern.

Kazemaru feels his rage boiling at the touch. “ _Fuck it_!!” he screams now, lungs in flame and voice broken. Someone gasps at that, someone starts whispering and murmuring at his back… but he doesn’t really care, because before Someoka can say something to him he is just gone, and he doesn’t show up ever again.

“I get it. I’m not a big fan of farewells myself”.

Kazemaru raises his head from between his legs and gasps at that, because he can tell that it’s Fudou’s voice, he just doesn’t know where it came from. It really feels like a nightmare. “Leave me alone,” he sobs grumpily. He pauses. “Where are you?“

“Up here,” Fudou responds, and Kazemaru must turn around to look at the big ass tree backing him. He looks up and up, until he notices Fudou’s slender figure towering over him, quietly seated on a thick branch like he is a cat. As he sees him, Kazemaru presses his palms over his eyes to wipe away the tears and scrambles for is things, ready to leave.

“Hey, hey, what’s the hurry?” Fudou taunts him, and Kazemaru wishes he could punch him.

“Stay away from me,” he growls, giving him an annoyed look.

Fudou smirks at him. “It was here first, so maybe you are the one who should go,” he points out, “You know, going to your friends. Saying goodbye. Stuff like that”.

“Fuck you,” Kazemaru babbles, rubbing his face with both hands. He hasn’t been here long, but Fudou has heard him crying for sure and now it’s a bit too late to pretend that it hasn’t happened. And honestly, he is so tired to run away, trying to avoid his teammates for days, staying up as late as possible so that Someoka can’t wait for him and ambush him to have a proper talk. So he just sits back there, brain freeze and puffy eyes, trying to ignore him for once.

Fudou, surprisingly enough, stays quiet for a while, so for a moment Kazemaru almost forgets he is there with him. Then he hears his unusual soft voice saying: “It’s like it never ends, isn’t it?”

Kazemaru lets a low sob escape his lips.

“The world falls apart, and yet, there’s still someone who’s got it together… way before you realize what’s going on”.

“Stop it,” he weakly complains, bringing his legs to his chest.

Fudou ignores his plead. “I get it. Things would be way easier if we could be almighty as we’d like to. But we aren’t,” he keeps on saying. “We are here to bite this bullet too, after all”.

Kazemaru snaps on his feet again and takes a few steps before turning around and look at him again, his breath short for all the crying and his hands clenched in tight fists. “Cut it out, I’m tired of your shit!”

“Am I wrong, though?” the guy looks down at him, offering a condescending smile. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about”.

“No, I don’t,” Kazemaru says back, “It doesn’t make sense, and I’m trying to have a moment here, so shut the hell up”.

Fudou chuckles, “I said it to you already, yeah? You have a mouth it’s hilarious”.

Kazemaru closes his eyes and bends down, feeling too spent to really comment Fudou’s words. He has a point, though. He really should be at the front gate saying goodbye to his friends, and yet, he much prefers staying there, covering his own mental tracks and following the same pattern as always, on and on. And neither Fudou can actually stop him, heading towards his self-destruction, tearing apart what he is and he has got, and every progress he has made until then. He is so used to this that he doesn’t even care about what is happening here: he just can’t help feeling like that, a pure miserable being, and for the love of God, sometimes he just wants to dip in it and feel warmed by this convenient feeling.

But there, in this place… he must always find a compromise, in a way or another. Because he’s never quite alone as he would like to be, he doesn’t get a chance to really stay by himself with his thoughts, and honestly, it looks like Fudou is doing it on purpose. He can’t forget Sakuma’s words from just a few days back.

But Kazemaru doesn’t think he’s being the prey here. Even now.

“Hey,” Fudou purrs. “I’m here just to keep you company, you know? Peer to peer”.

“What do you mean by that?” Kazemaru scoffs, trying to slow down his breath and contain all those hiccups.

“In a way, we are similar. You know things don’t have to go this way every time. There’s a limit to that. If only things would turn out as you’d like to, you’d be the one to success. And you know what? I feel the sentiment.” Fudou says with a mischievous smirk, “Because everyone would like to be in control of their lives for once, am I right?

Kazemaru sighs at that, trying to understand that little game he is doing with him. If what Sakuma said is true, it looks like Fudou is trying to manipulate him through time; but Kazemaru knows there’s something not quite right: it’s not like he is trying to convince him of something, after all. Everything he is saying sounds reasonable and familiar: he thinks all those things already, by his own. Daily. He _does_ want having control. It’s something he can’t really deny. If only, he feels uncomfortable knowing that Fudou is getting to the core of him that he thought being secret and unfathomable, trying to grab and bare everything he can reach.

As if he is giving him permission.

As if there are no boundaries.

As if they are the same person.

_But they are not._

“I like control…” he admits. He’s not looking at him, but he can feel his Cheshire smile on his skin. “But I think you misunderstood me”.

Fudou doesn’t hide his surprise and hums.

Kazemaru takes more courage. “I would never take control and use it to hurt others. Like _you_ do”.

“Uh?” Fudou frowns. Kazemaru turns around, eyes on him, and half-smiles. He can already see Fudou is upset, and he doesn’t miss his cautious tone of voice when he says: “That’s bullshit. Everyone wants to be the one to prevail for once”.

Kazemaru shakes his head and feels his hair on his cheeks. “You see, you are in the wrong here,” he explains, and for a while he stays silent, trying to process what he wants to say. “I don’t want to be above anyone. Being at the same level, that would be enough for me,” _And I am not_ , he thinks immediately after, but he doesn’t let the sentence escape his lips, neither pierce through his nerve.

“That’s pathetic,” Fudou comments, as he crosses his arms behind his head to sit more comfortably. He looks at the crown of leaves like he can see through it.

Kazemaru doesn’t let himself waver hearing those words. He can still stand for himself in front of Fudou. He is not the menace he thinks he is, not for him. “You know, there are many things that I hate about myself,” he recalls, thinking about what Nakamura-sama has told him: he might have his ups and downs, he might lose himself, but he can still work on it, even in times he truly believes he can’t make it. “But I would never want to be in your shoes. Always nestled in your own superiority complex. That’s a too pitiful way of living.”

Fudou snaps at that: his legs fall at the sides of the branch and he glares at him, like he’s the one being annoyed. “You are rotten as well,” he barks, “don’t patronize me or…”

“Yeah, I am, more than anyone else in my team apparently,” Kazemaru says back with a slightly broken voice, because it hurts to admit it out loud. “But at least I’m trying. Like, really trying”.

Fudou gives him one of his grins, but this is a pained one. “By sitting under a tree and crying all day long?”

Kazemaru lowers his arm to pick up a little rock from the ground and he throws it at him. Fudou protects himself by raising his arms, not getting caught off guard, just yelping a little. It’s a strange sound, especially coming from him. Kazemaru pretends he hasn’t heard that.

“You are one to talk,” Kazemaru growls, “On the bench the whole time. You are not trying. Not even a bit. All you do is lay down and talk bullshit”.

Fudou gives him one of his ferocious looks. “You don’t know anything about me!” he yells, but it’s not enough to really intimidate him anymore. Too stubborn for that.

“You don’t know anything about me, either,” Kazemaru remarks, “So stop trying to befriend me like I’m your next puppet or something”.

Fudou raises an eyebrow, falling silent. They look at each other for a while, Fudou sitting ridiculously on the branch, Kazemaru trying to avoid the impulse to touch his burning eyes and makes it worse. Then Fudou stands up, showing the agility of a wire walker, and stares down at him like he is really thinking about something.

“Again, I can’t follow you,” he says, quietly, like he really means it. “You do all this thinking inside your head and then you expect that other people will understand all that crap”.

He really looks conflicted all of sudden and Kazemaru doesn’t know why. He huffs, feeling his hands wet and sticky at his sides. “Am I wrong tho?” he asks.

Fudou rolls his eyes, “About what? Be specific”.

“About you being stuck as I am,” Kazemaru whispers softly, too softly, to the point he feels warm all over and he doesn’t know what else to say.

He makes eye contact and again, he adverts some kind of sorrow he can’t quite grasp, but he now knows it becomes visible only if he looks at him in a certain way. Kazemaru wonders if recognizing a pain that isn’t his own is how irony of life really works.

Fudou eventually jumps off the tree and gives him a stern look, before leaving in obstinate silence.

It’s been a while since he has had dinner with everyone, mostly because he refused to. And as he sees the empty table awaiting him that night, he can’t help but feel a hint of bitterness on the tip of his tongue. He is forced to swallow it down as he sits and puts his tray down.

He is still eating by himself when he feels someone approaching. At first, he thinks it’s Sakuma again, but then a pair of turquoise eyes lay on him and he can’t help but frown, noticing that the captain of The Genesis himself is in front of him and he is giving him one of his gentle smiles. Kazemaru wonders if he wants to sit there with him, but he notices that Kira hasn’t any tray with him, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, the boy looks at him fondly, and Kazemaru doesn’t know if what he sees is pity or not, but it makes him uncomfortable. “You are Kazemaru-san, am I right?”

There isn’t always time for introduction, but it’s not like Kazemaru doesn’t know who he is, because everyone does. One time he came at their table only to have a chat, asking if they were fine, if it was ok, if they needed something. Kazemaru could tell right then that he was a nice guy, standing there and feeling responsible about crimes he hadn’t committed in the first place. However, he doesn’t quite believe that he could remember his name, no matter how big his sense of guilt could be. This can’t be real. So he just looks at him like he’s sort of crazy and he really starts to wonder if he really is, when Kira speaks again.

“I’m sorry to bother you, really. But there’s a call for you upstairs. Do you want me to tell them to call later?”

“No problem,” Kazemaru says, not entirely processing what is happening here. He leaves his tray on the table and follows him.

It’s not like he expected a call, since his mother is on a business trip and anyway he is the one who calls her, not the other way around. The only logical explanation is that Hitomiko-san has something to tell him, but they haven’t ever talked since he’s there, and to be fair, he can’t really imagine why she would call him of all people. Or maybe, it’s just Someoka wanting to confront him once for all, but still, Kazemaru can’t see the reason why it’s Kira coming for him and not a nurse. He would like to ask him, but it would mean showing off his discomfort and it’s not like he and Kira are _that_ close, it would be weird.

Once they’ve reached the phone box, though, Kazemaru can quite tell Kira wouldn’t have told him even if it was the case. As he feels his eyes on him, he can almost anticipate his next words: “I’m here if you need something”.

This is not an ordinary call.

Kazemaru could refuse and run away. He doesn’t have to pick up the phone and hear the voice at the other head, he doesn’t have to be okay with this, he really could just politely excuse himself and fly away. Kira can’t really judge him, because he doesn’t know him at all.

Kazemaru doesn’t know where this pressure comes from, but his hands are on the receiver already, and they are slowly lifting it up, like he’s not being himself at the moment. He secretly wants to know. Maybe he does already. He isn’t sure of it until he presses the phone on his right ear and hears Endou’s voice.

“K-Kazemaru-kun? Is it really you?!”

Kazemaru takes a breath. And another. And another one.

He just stands there, waiting for Endou to say something else, stunned by the whole situation to the point he doesn’t really know how to react.

“Like, I… I wasn’t prepared. Shit, sorry. I thought you’d have told Kira no. Shit. Wait”

_I missed his voice_ , he thinks without really thinking. He hears some rustle. Kazemaru can almost imagine him, running in circle all around his room, trying to catch the words flying in his head like mosquitoes. He really is Endou. And he misses him. Like, really _misses_ him.

“Okay, now… H-how are you? No, okay, no- The guys have just arrived. It’s been a long ride, they say. They have already told me everything to be honest but, you know… I just…”

It’s too soon, this is literally the worst possible time, and Kazemaru is _not_ ready. He literally has to fight the urge to hang up on him and run away from him once again.

“… I just want to hear it from you, you know? I… I think about you. Kinda… everyday?? But I get that, you wanted some space, and I respect it, really… You… you have to believe me… But anyway… I’m worried?? Like, really really worried. I don’t know, I just felt the need to call you… err, I called Kiyama-san first, sure… I just wanted to see for myself if there’s something I can do. Well, anything, really”. 

Kazemaru breathes in and breathes out. Again and again, feeling sweat wetting his hair and shivers crawling under his skin. He feels so cold that for a moment he wonders if he’s become an ice statue all of sudden. That would explain his total loss of speech. He just breathes in and breathes out, because it’s really everything he can do at the moment.

“Because you know…” Endou scoffs. He can see he is nervous even from miles and miles away. “I- I know it’s my fault, okay? I feel… I feel so bad. I couldn’t listen to you when I was supposed to. I couldn’t help you when you needed me the most. I can’t quite forgive myself. I have been the worst friend and I’m so sorry, Kazemaru-kun, I really am”.

_No, no, please, stop_.

He can’t say it. 

He breathes in and breathes out and hears Endou’s voice crack. “Y-you know… I’m here for you- I’ll always be here. Everything will be okay. I’m sure of it. Just… please let me help you”.

_This is all your fault_ , Kazemaru thinks, while he feels his rage mounting because of course Endou thinks this call will resolve everything, of course he says everything will be fine, _he’s Endou fucking Mamoru_. He is so tired of this he might yell at him right here, right now.

He doesn’t do it.

“I don’t wanna lose you, Kazemaru, I… I mean it, if I can do something… P-please don’t be mad at me… let’s be friends again. I’ll be good”.

Endou is practically rambling at this point, maybe he is nervous because he isn’t saying anything and _please say something_ , he can almost hear it, maybe it’s his own head pleading him to do something, to not be so harsh on him, _it’s just Endou, why do you have to be so mean_?

There’s a moment of silence in which he actually forgets how to breath.

“Kazemaru-kun… I really want to play soccer with you once more,” Endou’s voice is soft and trembling like it’s made of jelly. “And thousand times over again.”

_Please don’t say it_ , he wants to scream. And he can hear himself already, making some muffled sounds as few tears wet his cheeks for the nth time this week. He is so tired of this, so utterly tired, he just wants to let everything go and stop thinking so much about it, he really wants to rely on Endou once more, but his wounds are bleeding to the point he is suffocating it all for the sake of his own integrity. He doesn’t want to fall again, he doesn’t want to _feel_ _anything anymore ever_ again. He hates it so much _. I hate him so much_. Why it has to be Endou, why it has to be him… _Why does he love him so damn much it hurts_ …

“Endou-kun…” he murmurs, almost inaudible.

It’s too much.

Even before he can sense Endou’s surprise, Kazemaru slams the phone right into the receiver and stands there, puzzled, like it wasn’t him the one who did it. He stays there for a long time, no tears left to cry, feeling the world may crumble under his feet. But it doesn’t.

He hates the way he misses his voice already.


End file.
